How to say I love you and mean it
by radcgg
Summary: Finn says "I love you," and no, it's not the first time. More Finn/Rachel - extremely fluffy


**Title: How To Say "I Love You" and Mean It  
Word Count: 1363  
Spoilers: none  
Rating: R, for unexplicit sexytimes  
Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't sue.  
Summary: "I love you," he says and no, it's not the first time.**

Author's Note: For Ali who wanted pillows, lil wayne, finn, rachel and something else.

Thanks to dresswithoutsleeves for the beta, and honeyprose for reading it through. You ladies are awesome!  


He smiles at her as she leans back against the pillow on the bed. He thinks she looks like a beautiful painting he's seen before in a calendar or something once. If had had her words he might try to explain the fluttery feeling he gets in his chest every time he looks at her, every time he sees her like that. But he's just Finn, and he doesn't have any fancy words except the three ones that matter most.

"I love you," he says and no, it's not the first time.

*****

_Lil Wayne sings about how if you've got money then you know it, take it out ya pocket and blow it or show it, or something. Finn sways back and forth with her at some lame school dance, which is really not lame because he's there with her and anywhere with her is amazing._

They've been seeing each other for a few weeks. Only a few weeks, but something feels so right to him.

Her arms are in the air and her body is moving slowly, gracefully and even at 17 he knows deep inside. And he says it, into her ear while she bumps and grinds her body against his.

"What?" she yells back at him.

He pulls her away from the speakers, the crowds of students at the winter dance, and into the dark corner beneath the pull out bleachers where some of their classmates are sitting drinking their punch. "I love you, Rachel. I know it's soon. Maybe too soon for this, but it's how I feel, and... well, I just felt like I needed to tell you."

She stares at him. Just stares and his palms sweat, and his skin starts to crawl and his stomach is doing this weird flippy thing (kind of like when he's eaten too much, too fast, and is going to puke).

"I love you, too, Finn." She kisses him soundly on the mouth.

*****

"I still feel that flipping in my chest, you know." He says to her as she rests on the pillows, eyes closed.

She smiles at him. It's the only sign that she's listening.

*****

_"What the hell, Finn?"_

"Why did you do that? Why would you volunteer to help him? You know what he did. You know better than anyone what he's capable of."

"Who else is going to help him?" She might have a point here, but he's not going to let this slide.

"Whoever it is, it shouldn't be you. You know how I feel about him. This isn't right."

Puckerman is failing three different classes. He needs a tutor (or possibly a few) and Mr. Schue has asked everyone to help out. Still, Finn doesn't think that Rachel should have to go out of her way to help Puck. Puck who he still hasn't spoken to since that day months and months and months ago when he asked if they were "cool."

They're still not cool. They might never be cool.

And that his girlfriend wants to help out his enemy (or at best his ex-best friend) is really making him angry. Like unnaturally angry (like if he were the Hulk or something, Rachel would have to watch herself because he'd be going all mean green on her).

"Look, Finn, I love you, but I need to do this. He doesn't have anyone else." And suddenly his anger is completely gone. Vanished. Vapourized.

"How is it that hearing you say 'I love you' fixes everything? It's like a magical band-aid of words or something." He really does feel better. "I still don't understand it, but I guess I don't have to."

She smiles at him again.

Puck passes all three classes. 

*****

"When I see you, it still touches something in me." This time he touches the left side of his chest where his heart is.

*****

_He feels nerves, all kinds of nerves, and yet the weirdest kind of calm, too._

He's dressed in a funny suit, waiting for her to show up, because somehow being here without her is wrong. Being anywhere without her is wrong.

Nothing's as much fun as when Rachel is there to share the moment with him. Like that time they went to the bumper cars and she got all turned around and he had to drive his car over to help her. Finally they decided that her car was a waste of time and she jumped into the passenger seat of his. Together they demolished the little boys and girls on the ride with them.

Or the time they went to see a really bad horror movie together. They sat in the movie theatre digging through buttery popcorn and laughing at the blood, making stupid jokes and comments only loud enough for them to hear.

Or that time when he broke his foot and couldn't play basketball for two months. She came and sat with him during practice, while he moped on the bleachers. She'd watch the practice sometimes taking notes and reminding him of all the things he could do when he came off the crutches in two weeks. She kept reminding him that this wasn't the end of the world and that he would play again. And he did.

What about the time when Kurt kissed him under the mistletoe, on the lips? He'd never been so embarrassed but Rachel just laughed and asked him if Kurt was a better kisser than she was. He'd smiled and asked her to kiss him, too because he need to have a fresh sample in mind before giving her a real answer.

That was the same night they'd slept together for the first time.

And what about that? He was pretty sure then, and is still sure now, that he was/is/will be the luckiest guy on the planet because no one else will ever be as good as Rachel. EVER. (She's taken up yoga in recent months and DAMN.)

"It's time," his mom says, breaking him out of his memories.

And he stands in a room and waits for her to come to him.

When she does, all dressed up and beautiful he chokes up just a bit, and can only whisper those words to her again. "I love you, always."

Then he takes her hand. 

*****

"Every day I'm with you is magic because I'm with you." He hopes she's starting to understand.

He leans over and presses a soft, wet kiss on her lips, his bottom lip teasing hers.

Then he hears it.

"It's my turn." He reluctantly (and yet, not so reluctantly at the same time) takes one last look at her, sprawled out on the bed dark brown hair shining brightly even in the dim lighting.

He walks into the neighbouring room and picks up his baby girl, who gurgles and smiles at the sight of him. Pushing up her little fist, he wraps his arms around her. Careful to support her head.

"One day, I hope that you'll help me explain to your mommy how it feels to love her. Because you both share my heart."

He sways with his daughter (he still doesn't understand how something so perfect and small came from his tiny Rachel) and sings to her softly until her eyes close and she stops wiggling around in his arms. He places her back in her crib before walking back to her mother.

Rachel's eyes are wide open and she's holding the baby monitor in her hands. She has bright tears in her eyes.

She places a hand on her own heart and puts the monitor down, the light glinting off her ring. When he reaches her, she peels off his shirt, then his pants, then her own clothes. And suddenly she doesn't seem very tired anymore.

When he's inside her (for the first time in eleven weeks, three days and four hours) it's perfect. As perfect as it is every time and every way.

When he comes it's because she's whispered in his ear that she'll keep his heart safe (her body tightening around him).

After ten years together, he trusts her to keep that promise.


End file.
